Roll Over
by casey0219
Summary: Our intrepid trio stop over at a motel and things get freaaaky.


"It was a dark and stormy ni—Ouch! Hey, what the ...?" Mac objected to the rude interruption LiAnn had inflicted on his story and his ear.

Vic took his eyes off the road and managed to grin at LiAnn.

"Try _again_, Mac," LiAnn said in that steely clipped voice the guys knew could be used when she was totally serious or just screwing with someone's mind.

Mac covered both options and started again: "It was the best of times, it was the—Shit! LiAnn, was that really necessary?" He rubbed his belly, trying to smooth out the dent her fist had made (or at least it felt like that).

"A REAL story, Mac. Use some of that energy to think of something new. I know you have original thoughts every now and then. Try really hard and see if you can have one now. Either that or it's your turn to drive."

"Oh, no way, man. Not this lump of, uh, ... Well, that is, I don't think ... Uh, once upon a time there was a woman with such attitude even her—"

"That's not a story, Mac," Vic interrupted, "That's real life. I don't know about LiAnn, but the only way I want to hear a story about the Director today is if it's a murder mystery. Except then I'd be the top suspect, so that wouldn't exactly make it a good story."

"Naw, then it would be an uplifting comedy. Can you imagine anyone laughing at the Director?"

"Yes. Are you going to tell us a story or what?"

"Yes, LiAnn? Who?"

"Who cares?"

"Well, actually, I wouldn't mind hearing about that, too." Vic glanced at her and then back at the road.

"Mac asked if we could imagine anyone laughing at the Director. I can."

"And?"

"And nothing. I just can."

Mac groaned and sank back into the corner of the seat, against the passenger sidedoor of the truck. "I think we were better off comparing Chinese restaurants."

"Yeah, like it really matters where you eat eel. I mean, it's not like you can ever says it's GOOD."

LiAnn and Mac both gave Victor looks and then let the topic drop, it having been covered in great depth about two hours ago, four hours into this drive to (or from?) hell. 'To' because they were heading back to the city and the Agency, where the Director was no doubt awaiting them with their progress reports and suitable chastisements. 'From' because they had just completed a four day intensive (like there was anything else at the Agency), workshop at an Agency training center. If that didn't convey enough to explain just what they'd been through, well, none of them really had the energy to elaborate at the moment. Although Mac could have managed a few descriptive and, likely rude, phrases. Vic and LiAnn were too tired to really work up the tirade they felt they deserved to vent.

"Look! A motel." Vic slowed the truck and turned into the parking lot.

"Listen, guys, we have until Tuesday afternoon to show up at the Agency. I'm exhausted, so's LiAnn, and Mac won't drive my truck—thank god—so let's finish the drive tomorrow, ok?"

Mac was already getting out of the truck. LiAnn followed eagerly. Vic took that as an 'okay' and headed off to the motel office.

"Does this parking lot seem a little full for a motel in the middle of nowhere?"

LiAnn looked around, took in the number of vans and cars crammed with luggage and sporting camping gear on racks and in trailers, and then she counted the number of people and kids moving about, taking things from cars to motel rooms or standing in groups talking.

"You're right, Mac. I think we may have a problem."

Just then Vic stepped out of the office. "Bad news is these people are all on their way to a family reunion or something. Good news is we got the last room."

"How many beds?" Mac asked.

"One."

LiAnn groaned and leaned against the truck. "Who gets to sleep in the truck?"

"No one," Vic said. "We suffered enough this weekend. We'll figure something out. I mean, there's got to be a sofa or something, right? One thing's for sure, we're not sleeping in shifts. There's no reason to do that and we've all been up for almost three days straight so just screw that idea right there. Even if I have to share a bed with Mac." Mac just flashed him a fake smile. "I could actually manage a few really great come-backs to that, Vic, but it wouldn't be fair to pick on you when you're so obviously in such a weakened state. I'll just hang on to them for later, ok?"

LiAnn grabbed the key out of Vic's hand, looked at the tag, and headed off for the room. Vic clapped Mac on the back as they followed and said very kindly: "Worried you won't be able to come up with fresh come-backs as they're needed, Mac?"

One bed. A king size, true, but one bed. And a wee dresser almost glued to one side of the bed. A miniscule bath room, minus the bath but featuring a shower where there was no fear of slipping and falling on the soap; the walls were close enough that they'd catch you far from the ground. And that was it. No chairs. Most definitely no sofa. Not even a bathtub to use as a makeshift bed. There was barely room for one of them to stretch out on the floor. As one they looked down at the floor—and followed the progress of several very healthy-looking ants as they made their way towards a little hole in the wall leading outside.

It was Mac's cue to make some sarcastically clever remark, LiAnn's cue to broadcast one of her meaningful looks perhaps accompanied by a well-chosen word or two, and Vic's chance to go along with their disgust or play some sort of practical father-figure type out to make the best of the situation. Instead, he made for the bathroom, sidling alongside the bed to be the first to wash-up so he could be the first in bed. Now _that_ was practical.

When he came out, LiAnn went in, leaving Mac still trying to get the mini television set to work. It wouldn't. Vic was glad. Sleep, all he wanted was sleep. He stripped off his jacket and Agency "trainee" coveralls and dumped them on the dresser, kicking his shoes towards the little bit of open floor. Then he pretty much fell on to the bed, scrambling to get under the covers. It was cold with just his boxers on, not that the freezing sheets were much better.

"Hey! How come you get the middle?"

"'Cause I TOOK it."

"I bet you steal the covers, too."

"You'll find out, won't you, Mac?"

"Y'know, this could be one of my fantasies come to life—if you weren't here."

"Good night, Mac."

Taking in the situation as she and Mac exchanged locales, LiAnn decided she didn't mind the side of the bed which was up against the dresser; at least she wouldn't fall off the bed. True, it was kind of weird sharing a bed with ... Crap it. She was too tired to delve into all the emotional explorations this sleeping arrangement probably warranted. Adding her jacket and coveralls to Vic's, figuring her tank top and boxers were decent enough to sleep in, she clambered over Vic's feet and stretched out. Then she fought with the "hospital style" bed making until she managed to release the edge of the covers from under mattress and crawled into the cool sheets. Well, cool on one side, warmish Victor on the other.

Just as he mumbled "G'night," Mac came out of the bathroom. Oh, great. So he got to be the one to turn out the lights and then figure out how to get into that bed without touching anything embarrassing _and_ falling off.

Well, he wasn't a highly trained agent in a top-secret agency of some sort, complete with recent training upgrades, for nothing. He shucked his coveralls, successfully accomplished his mission and then lay there wondering how he was supposed to sleep. Couldn't relax too much or you might end up leaning against ... someone or having one of those dreams in which (according to LiAnn), he spoke some wishful thoughts loud and clear. Anyway, how could he relax? Here he was, in a bed with his former girlfriend and HER former fiancée!

Just because they managed to get along as partners didn't mean that they didn't have "issues." Or, maybe he did. Nah, this had to be weird for the other two. But they were asleep and he wasn't. Mac didn't have much choice but to lie there, and eventually he found his attention focused on the sound of his partners' breathing. In a way, it was soothing, even if it was rather disconcerting hearing two other people sharing his bed. He drifted off.

LiAnn awoke to the feel of a hand running up and down her thigh. She knew that hand. Mac's hand. Ummmm ... She cuddled deeper into the warmth of the body she rested against, feeling his arm tighten around her. Oh, ummm, felt good, cozy. Without volition, her hand moved against skin, and the shape was familiar. She faded in and out awareness of the hand and the body, feeling absolutely comfortable where she was, familiar with the touch and the smells, the feelings. They were all things she knew. And they were good.

Mac wasn't awake enough to try, but he knew he could never recall waking up feeling so damn good. Good and warm and protected and cuddled. He moved his hand along LiAnn's leg again. He'd always liked the way his hand fit along her thigh, and the way she responded to that caress. He could smell that very faint perfume she wore (or had applied before the hell camp). He nuzzled his face into the warmth of the body beside him, idly dreaming/thinking that LiAnn had never seemed this ... solid before. But the arm around him felt right and the leg under his moved closer to his own, reaching for more contact. It felt a lot less delicate than LiAnn's, but the foot he encountered _was_ hers. As he drifted back into sleep, Mac placed a light kiss on the skin beneath his lips.

The recipient moaned and turned his head on the pillow. That's when Mac's eyes shot open. LiAnn may have gained some muscle lately, but her voice hadn't changed. He took in the immediate vista before him. Oh. Oh. OH. Mostly definitely not LiAnn's chest his head was pillowed on. He followed his arm and found that it was indeed her thigh his hand was on. But the leg he had clamped under one of his own looked like it belonged with the chest he'd kissed. Ooops.

Well, he could freak. Mac thought about it. Realized he didn't really feel like freaking. Mellow, was more like it. Experimentally he slid his leg up and then down Vic's. He decided he was enjoying himself when Vic made a little funny noise, the hand that was on Mac's waist tensing in a manner that Mac read as possessive. Interesting ... Mac slid his hand off LiAnn's thigh on to Vic's chest in a move calculated to evoke a response. The murmured indiscernible words that rumbled through Vic's chest and sent shivers into Mac were a pretty good indication Mac was on the right track. So Vic was vocal, was he?

LiAnn's hand had moved when Mac had broken his contact with her. It slid down Vic's chest, down to the side, coming to rest in the heat where Mac's leg met Victor's. She had a happy smile on her face as her eyes opened only to stare directly across Vic's chest into Mac's. Mac saw the recognition and the confusion that lasted all of two seconds. He gave her a mischievous grin and suggestively moved his leg to hold her hand where it was. Mac knew LiAnn. He was well aware of her naughty side. The smile she gave him was almost a leer as they silently agreed they were having a good time.

How far were these two going to take this?

Vic squeezed his eyes shut tighter, trying not to betray the fact that he was awake. He figured the sounds which escaped him would only make his posture more believable, because neither LiAnn nor Mac would likely believe that Vic was living out a personal fantasy at the moment. He was afraid it would end right now if his partners knew how far he _wanted_ it to go. Joking around was one thing but maybe they'd be frightened away by the real thing.

So, Vic, just how good does this feel? Ummmm ... it's, it's, uh, ooh, I like it. 'Nuff said. Go away, let me enjoy this.

He felt LiAnn's hand slide across his body and tuck in between his thigh and Mac's (and what sadistic motivation had made Mac throw his leg over Vic's just like that? Didn't he realize how much Vic could ... feel ... in this position?!), little thrilling sparks of energy coalescing into responses he darn near bit his tongue off trying to repress. This was torture, but it was also kind of fun. He wondered if they were in this together or both still asleep. Vic was pretty sure he was the only one awake when Mac had kissed his chest. But even though Mac had controlled his reaction, Vic felt that he had been awakened right then. So that would mean that either Mac was taking advantage of him (delicious thought), or that he was having some fun with Vic. Vic didn't know what state of consciousness LiAnn was in at all. He felt her eyelashes flutter against his chest, but that could happen in sleep. Then he felt her thumb softly stroking his inner thigh, where her hand was caught between his leg and Mac's, and Vic knew she was awake. So she and Mac were probably thinking that they could have some fun with him, were they? Again he wondered how far they would take it -and how far he would let them.

What to do?

Experiment.

He sighed softly, snuggling down deeper into the bed, "accidentally" pulling his companions closer, his leg moving higher to slide farther between Mac's, closer to, well, boxers or not, Vic could feel more of Mac than was visible. He wished he could see the look on Mac's face. Dwelling on that thought for a moment, Vic almost forgot that he was "asleep" when he felt LiAnn's tongue- RIIIIIIIIIIIING!

Three people with really fast reaction times nearly hit the roof. LiAnn managing to reach above her head to the dresser and grab the ancient rotary telephone, inquired rather nastily "WHAT?"

Vic and Mac were still flailing around on the bed, only ending up falling all over each other. So they missed the almost terrified look on LiAnn's face. Mac had somehow ended up pinned under Victor when LiAnn reached out and, grabbing the nearest thing, held on _really_ firmly. "FUCK!" Vic was impressed with her strength but not the fact that she'd demonstrated it on his arm. Both men turned to look at their partner and the silence was clear enough to let them all hear the Director's voice on the other end of the line, inquiring as to whether they'd had a good sleep.

" ... just to let you kiddies know that mama hasn't forgotten to draw up those lists of daily activities. Now that you're all fresh and energized after the training session, I trust you'll be eager to get back to work, so I've made sure you'll all be kept suitably occupied. I expect to see you here on Tuesday. Don't forget to make the bed." Click.

LiAnn replaced the phone.

"I hate all of this sometimes, I really do," she said. Well, what could you say to that except "me, too," and that seemed rather silly, so the guys were quiet. All of them just lying there thinking about their strange lives—LiAnn wondering how she'd even managed to look surprised at who was on the phone—who else would call them here?

Mac wasn't great with silence. A quick quip to lighten the mood seemed in order.

"Yeah, but on the other hand, how else would you end up in bed with two hunks?" He reached out and pulled her into a hug and Vic took the opportunity to drape himself as completely over both Mac and LiAnn as possible.

"What gives you the idea this is the first time this has happened to me?" LiAnn's voice came muffled up between their bodies.

"You think I'm a hunk?"

Oops. Was either question safe to answer?

Seemed like LiAnn was interested in the answer to Vic's inquiry, too. She poked her head up and fixed Mac with that amused look that told him she would enjoy seeing him get out of this one. Vic looked like he wasn't sure if he'd asked the question in jest or not.

Mac squirmed a little on the bed. And Vic had his answer.

He grinned. LiAnn was still looking at Mac; she saw his expressions change—from 'help' to 'huh?' to 'expectation'—and then all she knew was Vic and Mac were lip locked and she wasn't really getting much out of being in bed with two hunks.

However, LiAnn was a modern woman. She took matters—both matters—into her own hands.


End file.
